Ghost A Parody of a parody
by azuresoul
Summary: You can probably guess the whole storyline the title says it all really, but I changed a lot of it... It seemed to fit the movie to me anyways! Please review, because I want to know what you think! Otherwise I'm just going to keep writing awful stuff if


CHAPTER 1:

Christian sat up in his bed, sweating madly. He had finally managed to get to sleep, but all he could see was her. He'd only just left the hospital a few hours ago, and it had taken him hours to get to sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was her again; eyes wide open and cold. 

Satine sat up in her bed, groggily. it felt like she had a massive hangover, and she couldn't remember the night before. She remembered the show... THE SHOW! Christian had come back to her... but why couldn't she remember the rest? Had she gone through with _it? _Had she got drunk enough that she _had_ gone to "save the Moulin Rouge"? There was one way to be fairly sure. She stood up and looked in the mirror. The duke had a nasty habit of leaving large lovebites all over her neck. She looked, and there were none. Satine let out a sigh of relief; almost chiding herself in thinking that she would ever have done that to Christian, or herself. 

Christian swung his legs over the side of the bed, and buried his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, and began sobbing violently. He lay back on the bed again, hiding his face away with his hands before running them up and them through his hair.

He just lay there in disbelief. Satine was gone. He couldn't believe it. She was with him again - they had managed to "overcome all obstacles" mortal to be together; and he would now never have the chance to discover what that future may have held. Something stronger than their love and beyond their control had untimely taken them from each other.

It wasn't fair. How could something so perfect end so wrong?

Christian eventually got up. He didn't have the will to take care of himself any more. He had slept in his clothes, so he didn't bother changing; he was already dressed. He threw on his long black coat, pulled the collar up and walked out. And kept walking. And kept walking. A single tear fell down his cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away; he didn't have the energy. 

He had to get this over and done with - the public funeral that some of her past customers might turn up to. The thought of it made him sick. She was _not_ the Sparkling Diamond, but _Satine _. He would say goodbye to her in their own special way later. He walked on. The wind picked up, so he pulled his collar up further and walked off faster. 

Satine got up, threw some clothes on, and ran to see Christian. She had to know what had happened last night. Normally, even when she had been drunk, she could recall eveything that had happened, sometimes unfortunately!

Just as she reached his garret building he strode out. He didn't see her. Did he? She half ran, half skipped up to him and walked backwards in front of him. He completely ignored her. She began to dread the worst. There was only one thing she could have done to make him act like that - she began to seroiously consider the fact that she may have gone through with it - she may have slept with the duke. What on earth possessed her to do that? Had he drugged her?

She waved her hand in front of Christian's face. His face looked agonised, and she could see he was crying; and had been for a long time. His eyes were red. She carried on waving her had, but Christian pulled up his collar and strode on faster. She stepped out of his way and just watched him walk on. She sank to her knees and sobbed. She eventually picked herself up and walked home. How could she?

She felt dirty and disgusting. So that was the life her drink had chosen for her... what came naturally when she dropped her inhibitions.

She went to see Harold; one of the few people she knew would still talk to her after last night's supposed events. 

Marie sat at her table, long hair trailing untidily past her shoulders. She could try, for Christian's sake, Her mother was one, all her sisters were. They were all prosperous psychics - why not her? Why had the spirits not chosen her? They were all comfortably off, and she was stuck hosting a brothel.

She sprinkled a circle of lavendar around the table, like she had done so many attempts before, and sat down. She prayed with all her mind that Satine would come to her; for everyone's sakes; especially Christian's - there was still so much they had to say to each other. 

Harold sat at his table, writing a letter to Christian. His door was open so Satine rushed in without knocking. Harold completely ignored her, even though she called his name several times. What _had_ she done last night, that she couldn't remember? Why would Harold, of all people, not speak to her?

She leant over his shoulder, to read what he was writing:

"My dear Christian,

We are all so sorry for your loss. I blame myself. I could have sent the pair of you away so that you could spend your last few days together, together. I _should_ have done, and for that, I will always be truly sorry. In respect, I am closing the Moulin Rouge - it will be nothing without the Sparkling Diamond.

Thank you for giving permission for the public funeral, for all of us who knew her and loved her. I will respect your wishes if you want the official funeral alone with her. I know the bond you two shared was more special to her than anything else, so it only seems right.

But, Christian, I have graver news still. The duke wants to kill you. He did as soon as he found out about the pair of you. That is why she tried to make you go; so you could live life away from harm. You need to get out of Montmatre, even out of France. You need to be as far away from the Moulin Rouge as you can. You must, Christian, or you will be killed. Satine would have wanted you to live on. She showed that. That was the reason why she pushed you away; she was willing to sacrifice everything you had together, just so you could live on. Please flee. Do not waste her pain.

I know she will be with you wherever you go, so you don't need to stay here. You may take anything of Satine's of sentimental value to you, and leave. I can help you, if needed.

Please, Christian.

With love and respect,  
Harold Zidler."

Satine fell backwards and fainted. 

Christian tore open the letter in disgust. He had become a cynic to Zidler's twisted nature - why should he change now? 

_Closing down the Moulin Rouge_? Yeah right, cutting his losses and moving on! Christian knew Satine was the only reason most of the people went there. If Zidler didn't close it, then surely it would go bankrupt and be shut down.

Christian never gave _permission_ for the public funeral - Zidler didn't let him object, and insisted. He was probably going to do something sick like make money with abominable entrance fees.

Christian knew Zidler was making the official for only Christian so that it didn't have to be fancy, or cost him a lot of money. That would mean more of Satine's guardians _precious_ money.

Christian laughed hollowly. He didn't care if the duke killed him. He would be with Satine again. If there even was a God. If there was, he had a twisted sense of compassion, tearing them apart.

Harold wanted Christian to go, to get him out of his hair. He didn't want more hassle, or blood on his hands. He obviously didn't understand Christian _one bit_. Christian _needed_ to be here. He saw Satine everywhere, heard her cheekily seductive giggle in every room of his garret. He breathed in the same air that she did. Christian _needed_ to be here, to be near her. She was to be buried here. If he left Montmatre, it would be like leaving her.

As for the 'sentimental' value - that meant nothing expensive. What was he going to do? Probably something sick like auction it off, to feed the rest of his life as a _poor, homeless unemployed pauper_. Yeah right. He would probably hold it at some grand fair at his amazing public funeral.

Christian _wouldn't_ leave, partially just to spite Zidler. He _should_ have let them be togther, come what may. At this thought, the thought of Satine and their secret words, he burst into racked sobs, tearing the letter into a thousand pieces. He vowed he would never leave Satine. He would be with her _always_. Until he finally left life to be with her. He knew what Satine tried to give up for his life, but he couldn't leave. He would fight for his life, if needed, right here. 

Satine woke up. No wonder Christian was ignoring her! As if he could be petty enough to ignore her - even if she had slept with the duke. Which now, she knew, she hadn't. It all came back to her.

Chapter 2:

A small part of her was relieved she was dead. It made her 'life' so uncomplicated. Yes, she would miss everyone though.

She sat down and wept. Not because she would miss everyone, but for i Christian /i . For Christian's pain. For their love. It i would /i live forever, but she had to talk to him now she was still here. To say everything was alright, and that she loved him so very very much.

Then she remembered. The letter! She panicked. She knew exactly what Christian would be thinking. She knew him too well. She had to tell him to get out. If it came from her, he would listen.

Why was she still here? Was this heaven? Hell? Purgatory?

Suddenly, she heard Marie call her name, dear Marie, and she sounded so worried and so insistent that Satine came to her. She made her way to Marie's quarters. Maybe Marie could help her save Christian... maybe she could work out a way of making her heard to him. Was the love that held Christian and her bound together not strong enough for him to hear her beyond the grave? She hoped Marie could make him listen to her wishes. She would follow him wherever he went, and she had to let him know that. She wanted to tell him that she loved him. She had to say it one last time.

Suddenly, Christian's voice floated through to her:

"Heya, Satine. Oh god, I need you. So much. I love you! I want you back!" She could hear him burst into racked sobs and she fell to her knees on the floor and cried out for his pain. She wished she could tell him that she was still here, just for him. She closed her hands over her ears, but she could still hear his voice.

"I wish I could tell you how much I love you. I should have done it more. I wish I had. You were, and are, the most amazing person. Every day with you has been like an adventure, and I wish I could spend more with you. I might be joining you soon anyway. I can't wait to be with you once more. I love you. God, I love you so much, Satine." In calling her name, Christian burst into fresh sobs, and he barely managed to get the next few words out:

"Here... here is ... something... I ... I wrote for you... it will make you unders..s.stand why I have to...to...to be with you now. I love you. I don't want to g..go, but I have to. I can't bear to see all those... men... fawning all over your grave... I have left the poem here. I hope you can find some way to read it. I love you, Satine. I will be back, and I will be with you soon. I love you."

She felt the next sad words float through her mind decisively, as if they were written on paper:

"I can't say those three words your soul longs to hear;

It would fall upon dead ears.

But as I say to your lifeless eyes

I love you, my heart dies."

Satine fell to the floor completely, screaming in agony.

Marie's door opened sharply and she looked at the floor where Satine lay, sobbing violently.

"Warner, you will do as you are told. You messed it up last time, so you should be begging for forgiveness and another chance, not refusing to carry out orders!"

"Leave the poor man alone! Is the girl dying not enough pain?"

"No! I want him to pay with his life! He has humiliated me totally, and I don't want him to get away with it!" snarled the duke.

"Fine, have it your way, but at least I can kill him in the knowledge that I will be putting him out of his misery."

"Fine! I will do it! I will shoot him so that he dies slowly... maybe in the stomach... that way his heart will be consumed with as much pain as mine was with it being broken over the girl. Go fetch my coat, would you?"

But Warner had a plan. He would fetch the police and get them to arrest the duke before he managed to kill Christian. The duke was planning to do it when Christian was having his private funeral, so that he fell into Satine's grave. Then he was going to fill the hole up and claim suicide, for Christ's sake!

The duke had planned it perfectly so that he could get away with it with ease. There was no-one to stop the duke, i except him /i . But he had to act fast, and normal. He walked into the room where the duke's coats were hung.

The duke swiftly followed Warner; slammed the door behind him, and locked it.

"What kind of imbecile do you take me for, Warner? You can stay there until I get back. If you are gone, I will hunt you down and kill you. His life, or both of yours. You hear me?"

Marie screamed. Was she hallucinating?

"Sa...Satine?"

"Yes Marie, it's me. Can you see me?"

"I can't see you, I can only hear you. Where are you?"

"Now? Sitting opposite you. I need your help. Now."

"Who's going to believe me? They'll think I've gone senile!"

"Marie! Calm down! I need you to talk to Christian for me! I need you to say what I say to him. The duke is going to kill Christian, and he has to get out. I think that that is why I am still here; to save his life. i Please /I help me."

"Yes, whatever, sweetheart," she said, dazed,"wait until my sisters hear about this! They will have to give me a job then - I won't be broke any more! Oh thank you Satine!"

"So you'll do it?"

"Yes, lovey. The only problem is, we've tried persuading him to go, but he won't leave you."

"We'll have to try. Maybe I can persuade him."

"But it will only sound like I am talking to him! I've tried!"

"No it won't. I have an idea."

A small knock came on Christian's door. He didn't have the energy to get off the bed, so he rasped:

"Who is it?"

"Marie."

"Go away. I'm not leaving. Nothing new you can say will make me. I won't leave her!"

"What about something new Satine has to say?"

"Is this some sort of sick joke? Leave me alone! Satine is gone, as you have told me countless times."

"I know, Christian, I know. I can't explain it, but she is here. She wants to talk to you. Through me."

"Prove it."

Satine walked through the closed door. She gasped at the sight of her poor, beloved Christian like that. He was huddled on the bed, holding a pillow; his face buried in the top. His eyes were just peering over. They looked red and bloodshot. It was clear he hadn't shaved in days, when he raised his head out of the pillow to speak again, softer this time:

"I said, prove it."

"I know. Satine is in your room now. How would you like me to prove that?"

Christian looked wildly around. He clearly couldn't see her, because she was sitting across from him on his bed. Their bed. Her eyes filled up with tears. She just wanted to reach out and touch him, kiss him, tell him everything would be alright.

"What am I wearing?" asked Christian.

"Your blue suit..." started Satine.

"Your blue suit," said Marie.

"That's obvious! I'm going to a bloody funeral... anyone could guess that. Now leave me alone!"

"Wait, Christian, she's not finished!" interrupted Marie.

"Your blue suit that you wore when you told me that you loved me for the first time, when we went out of Montmatre for the first time together, without anyone knowing. The one I got stained with strawberry juice. The one that the top..." blushed Satine, "...the top of the zip on the trousers won't do up properly, as I found!" giggled Satine.

When Marie repeated this, Christian burst into tears. He knew she would come back!

"Where is she?"

"On the end of his bed," whispered Satine. Marie repeated this.

Christian lurched forwards, waving his hands around in a sweeping motion. His arm went right through her, and Satine closed her eyes. She had half hoped that it would make contact, even though she knew it wouldn't.

She reached out to touch his cheek, but her hand fell through.

"I just keep going inside him!"

When Marie repeated this, Christian laughed briefly, and whispered quietly enough so that only Satine could hear:

"That makes a nice change!"

Satine giggled naughtily.

"She's giggling, Christian. What did you say to her?"

Christian grinned in her rough direction, threw down the pillow, raced to the door, and wrenched it open. He let Marie in, and pulled three chairs up to the table, then sat down. Marie however stood, looking like she was listening to someone talking to her.

"I want to talk to her."

"Marie, please let me inside you. I want to talk to Christian. I want him to be able to look at me, as it were. Please. Let me try."

"Okay, sweetheart, anything for you."

Satine stepped carefully inside Marie's bony frame, and concentrated. She moved one leg, and then began to walk, easily after a while. She moved, and Marie's body followed.

Christian watched as Marie spoke briefly, then walked to the table stiffly, and then with innate grace. It was Satine!

"Sa...Satine! Can you hear me?"

"Yes Christian."

It was her voice! Satine's voice, Satine's grace. Satine's cute way of saying his name. He looked in Marie's eyes, and there was Satine's life, dance and sparkle. She was here!

"Satine! I love you! I love you! I love you..."

Marie's body placed a finger over Christian's lips. It may have been with Marie's rough skin, but it was with Satine's gentleness.

"I know. I love you too, Christian. So much."

They began crying. Satine walked over to Christian, and hugged him tight, nuzzling into his neck, as she so often did out of habit. Christian smiled and stroked her hair. He knew she loved that. He felt Satine smile against his cheek.

"You're here! I can't believe it! Well I can but..." grinned Christian.

Satine smiled.

"Okay, but just so you know, this is really wierd! But then again it isn't really. It's you! I'd love you even if you did look like Marie!" he laughed.

"Christian?"

"Mmm?" He was still smiling in disbelief, and was bursting with unbelievable pleasure.

"I have to tell you something. I believe that is why I am here. Harold and Marie are right..." she began.

"I'm not going!" Christian interrupted, "I can't leave you, not again."

"But you're not. It's okay!"

Satine held Christian's hands.

"I'm here now. I can tell you that it is okay if you leave. I want you to go. I don't want you to be killed. And I promise that wherever you go, I will follow, one way or another. I will always be with you," she stroked his cheek fondly, "please leave. Please promise me that you will leave."

"I can't!" sobbed Christian.

"Don't cry Christian. I'm here now. It's all alright."

"But you can't stay forever, can you?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm sorry. I want to. I want to be with you always. That's why we are going to my... to my body... and taking it with us. Take everything of mine you want. Move out of Paris. Take me there. And then I know that you will be safe. It will be our little place. And my final resting place. Will you be happy then?"

"No," said Christian, a lump forming in his throat," because it will be nothing without you there, by my side."

"Christian? I love you. I want you to live on. To tell our story, so that others leave when they can to be with each other, like I should have done with you. If you tell our story, my words will always be with you, and I will also have breathed the air at our special place."

"How did you know that? About you having been there... breathing..."

"Sometimes I shock myself with how well I know you!"

"Okay. Let's go. Right now."

They walked down to the church graveyard. Satine was freaked out to see her gravestone and coffin, but Christian gave her hand a squeeze, and put his arm around her. They just looked like, say, a son leadind his mother to her daughter's grave. So no-one stared. Except for when the Duke of Monroth darted out of the bushes, trying to see why no-one was at Satine's grave at the time that it was the private funeral.

Four burly policemen quickly ran after him and tackled him to the ground, helped along by i Warner /i . The duke was promptly whisked off in a police car.

Christian almost gasped. He was shocked at how he would had died had Satine not been there, and had Satine not come to him.

"I don't have to leave now!"

"You do, Christian. You knwo you do. He is a powerful man. He can still hurt you - there are no two ways around this. Please go, Christian."

"I guess so... Ok. But come with me. That way we can buy a house together, so that we have lived with each other..."

"Of course." Satine giggled at his sentimentality. It was cute. It was one of the many reasons why she loved him so much.

They chose a small house outside Paris, in the countryside. They always referred to it as 'their home' or 'their little place'.

The next evening, Christian awoke from an afternoon nap, in their bed, in their room, in their house. He walked downstairs in time to see his lover's soul, in the form of another, standing in the doorway, newspaper in hand.

"I've finished the planting, Christian."

"Why this late in the evening? What's wrong?"

"The danger has passed." She motioned to the paper, " all the duke's associates have been rounded up and jailed for life. I'm leaving soon... and I wanted to give you... to give you something to remember me by."

"Don't go please! I can't live without you again! Please!"

"Yes you can, Christian! I may not be here in voice, but I will always be with you in our little place. In your heart. You will always be in my heart and my thoughts. I will always be with you, and never leave you, I swear. I love you."

Satine stepped free of Marie's body. An intense, eerie blue light surrounded her so she was visible to Christian. He gasped. She was more breathtaking than ever.

He hadn't kissed her since she died, out of respect for Marie - plus they both agreed it would be too weird! But nothing stopped him now. He ran to her, threw his arms around her, and kissed her passionately on her soft lips. He withdrew eventually, just to memorise her face, her smile, her eyes.

"I love you. I can't tell you enough. I will never forget. I will tell our story. I will love you until my dying day, and then when I see you again. There are so many things I want to say to you. I love you. Will you marry me? Will you be with me forever, if only in my heart? I don't want you to leave. I love you. Please stay with me forever."

"I will. But not in your sight, or your ears; but in your heart. I love you too Christian. Yes, I will marry you. I will organise it for in about 50, 60 years time? Tell our story, do. That way, I will always be with you. I love you."

She stepped back, smiling, and was gone. He looked at Marie. It was her again. She looked like she had just woken up this second, from a deep sleep. She had obviously seen nothing up until this second.

Marie smiled. It wasn't Satine. She didn't smile in the beautiful way Satine did when she was with him.

"Can you..."

"No, dear," said Marie, knowing what he was thinking, "she has gone, know she knows you are safe."

"No I haven't..." said the little voice in Christian's heart. Tears streamed out of his eyes, but he smiled.

THE END


End file.
